Saving Hogwarts from the Goat's Flu
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Leave it to Dumbledore to spread the goat's flu all over Hogwarts. How can Severus Snape happen to mistake Harry Potter for his mother Lily when Harry helps him brew the goat's flu potion? More funny than fluffy, and not really plotty, more an idea. AU


**The Goat's Flu**

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office, drinking tea and playing wizard's chess together with his Deputy and best friend, Minerva McGonagall. All of a sudden, the fireplace flared, and Dumbledore recognised his brother Aberforth in the flames.

"Albus, I'm at St. Mungo's. I caught the goat's flu, and they told me to warn you. Since we were together this afternoon, you're likely to get it as well. They told me you should ask Pomfrey to check on you and put you into quarantine. Take care, brother, I have to go." With that the old man vanished from the sight.

"You better call Poppy and have her check you out," McGonagall said in concern, giving him a sharp look.

"No Minerva, I feel completely fine, not at all as if I was getting the goat's flu," Dumbledore replied, chuckling. "I wonder if Aberforth really caught it from his goat," he mused aloud.

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When Dumbledore woke up in the morning, he found his vision strangely blurry. He glanced around his room, noticing that everything held different colours than normal. '_Maybe the Weasley twins put a joke potion into my tea at dinner last night_,' he mused as he dragged himself into the shower and finally down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

However, when he took his usual seat between Minerva and Severus, whose hair held an oddly orange colour that morning, he realised that the food didn't look appealing at all. '_Probably because of the abnormal colours_,' he mused, playing with his toast.

"Albus, aren't you going to eat anything?" McGonagall queried in concern. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine, but I'm not hungry at all. Today, all the colours seem so strange that the food doesn't look tasty at all," he replied in a small voice.

"The colours are strange?" Madam Pomfrey queried, suddenly seeming very alert as she threw the Headmaster a sharp look and rose from her seat. "Albus, please accompany me to your office immediately," she said in her strict Healer's voice that made the Headmaster obey automatically.

Back in the Headmaster's office, Madam Pomfrey made Dumbledore lie down on the sofa and waved her wand over him a few times, before she sighed in exasperation, sliding her wand into her robe pocket. "Albus, I'm sorry, but you caught the goat's flu. The only symptoms of this flu are the strange vision and a high fever. However, it is very contagious, and you have to remain in your office or quarters at all times until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand me?"

"Yes my dear. How long do you think it'll last?"

"It's said to last about five days, and the incubation time lies between twelve and twenty-four hours. I'll ask Severus to brew the potion for this special kind of flu, and I'll bring it as soon as it is finished. Go to bed and rest. Your fever will probably go up during the day." With that, Pomfrey returned to the Great Hall to ask the Potions Master to make a few batches of the potion for the goat's flu.

"Poppy, I spent the evening with Albus. Do you think I should go into quarantine as well, although I feel completely fine?" McGonagall asked hesitantly, concern clearly written in her face.

"Yes Minerva, please return to your rooms immediately. I'll cancel your classes for the day. We don't want to have an epidemic at Hogwarts, if we're able to prevent it. Please call me as soon as you begin to feel unwell." Poppy shortly explained about the symptoms, and the Gryffindor Head hurriedly walked back to her quarters.

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It was nearly lunchtime when a very bored Headmaster decided to pay his Deputy a visit. Knowing that he was supposed to be in quarantine, he decided to take the Floo; however, the flames had a strange purple colour instead of the usual green, so he turned away from the fireplace and set to walk to the Gryffindor tower.

"Oh, Professor, you must come into the common room quickly," Hermione Granger told him, stepping in front of him as soon as he reached the floor on which the entrance to the common room was. "The first and the second year boys are having a huge fight. They're trying to hex each other."

Forgetting about his own predicament for the moment, Dumbledore quickly stepped through the portrait hole and spent the next twenty minutes trying to stop the fight by handing out lemon drops from his self refilling robe pocket.

Only when he instructed the students to head to the Great Hall for lunch, did he remember that he was supposed to be in quarantine and hurriedly made his way to McGonagall's office.

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By the evening, not only Professor McGonagall, but also the complete Gryffindor first and second years were ill with the goat's flu as well as Hermione Granger, a seventh year student. After putting the first and second years into quarantine in their dormitories, Madam Pomfrey decided to take Hermione to the hospital wing to prevent the rest of the House from getting the flu.

'_What should I do with Mr. Potter though? Due to the pneumonia he is suffering from, his immune system will be so weak that he'll catch the flu in the blink of an eye_.' Making Hermione wait in front of the hospital wing, she quickly Floo-called her most reliable friend apart from Minerva, Severus Snape. "Severus, I need to quarantine Harry Potter in your quarters," she came straight to the point and hurriedly explained her reasons, causing Snape to very reluctantly agree to allow the boy to recover in his guest quarters after inefficiently trying to throw a temper tantrum that fell on deaf ears with the Mediwitch.

When she gently helped Harry into the fireplace, she noticed that his hair had become red. '_Just like Lily's_,' she mused as she hurried to settle Hermione down into the bed right next to her office, before she was called to Slytherin, where the whole first and second year classes had taken ill as well.

By the time Pomfrey returned to her office, she felt hot and cold at the same time, and even if she weren't a Healer, she'd probably know that she hadn't been spared from the illness either.

It was a mere matter of hours until the whole school except for two persons in the dungeons had caught the goat's flu.

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Severus settled the boy into his guest room, groaning inwardly at the thought of having a guest in his quarters, let alone Potter. '_Oh well, the boy is ill and as the Potions Master and a teacher at this school it's my duty to look after him_,' a small voice at the back of his head informed him, and he checked on the seventh year in a relatively gentle way, before he made him drink his potions and instructed him to sleep.

"I'll look in on you later on," he promised and retired to his lab to brew another batch of the flu potion. However, he had just begun to prepare the ingredients when the fireplace in the living room flared.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Severus," he heard Poppy's stained voice. "The whole school except for the two of you is sick."

During the following two hours, the two colleagues made a detailed plan, according to which Poppy should gather the other three Heads of House and make them distribute magical thermometers to all students, instructing all students to take their temperature every four hours, so that they would be magically recorded at a parchment in Poppy's office. If Poppy noticed that a student was very bad off, she'd go and fetch him or her to the hospital wing. The Heads also had to hand out the goat's flu potion every four hours, and in order not to endanger Snape and to lesson his work load, the Mediwitch would take over responsibility for the Slytherins for the time being.

"Severus, I just hope you won't get sick. We need a whole lot of the potion, since everyone in the castle, including the house-elves, needs a dose of it every four hours. I'm afraid it'll be brewing for five days straight. Unfortunately, St. Mungo's is under quarantine and completely shut off as well, so we can't expect any help from outside. The house-elves have promised to take turns fulfilling their normal duties, but they won't be able to give any additional help."

"Very well then, if that's all, I'll go back to my brewing," Severus said, sighing, and cut off the Floo connection, before he headed back to his lab. He spent most of the night brewing, before he slept for a few hours, until a charm he had placed on Harry alerted him that his fever had risen to dangerous heights.

"I'm afraid you caught the goat's flu," he informed the student, groaning inwardly. '_So much about remaining healthy to be able to brew_,' he thought as he spelled the potions into Harry's system and returned to his lab to brew some more.

Only in the evening when Harry threw him a sharp look and asked, "Are you feeling all right, Professor? Your eyes look glassy and ill," Severus realised that he was sick as well.

"I'm fine. Go to sleep," he growled but hurriedly gulped down a dose of the flu potion before heading back to his working place. A few hours later, he was absolutely exhausted. He just seemed unable to get the potion right. It smelled correctly, but the colour was completely off. Instead of the normal light yellow, all the batches he brewed held a dark pink colour. He was just about to cast the Evanesco spell at the last three batches when Madam Pomfrey Floo-called him.

"Severus, are you and Harry still healthy?" she queried in concern.

"No," Severus growled, causing the Mediwitch to step through the Floo to look after her two boys.

"Severus, are you still feeling well enough to brew?"

"Yes, I know I must have quite a fever, but otherwise I feel fine. Nevertheless, I spent the last few hours brewing in vain. The batches are totally off colour."

"If they smell correctly, they'll be all right. It's because of the flu that you see strange colours," Poppy explained gently and headed to his lab to examine the batches. "Well, Severus, apart from the light green colour the potion seems to be all right."

"Light green?" Severus queried, raising an eyebrow.

Unbeknownst to the Potions Master, Harry had been awake and listened in on their conversation that had taken place in the living room, right in front of the door to the guest room. Suddenly, he felt even worse for intruding in the Potions Master's quarters, knowing that Snape had more work to do than anyone else in the castle. Unfortunately, he was still feeling very sick because of the pneumonia, but nevertheless, he resolved to try to help the professor if anyhow possible.

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When Severus checked on Harry in the morning and finally headed back into his lab, Harry scrambled out of his bed and followed the professor.

"Professor, please let me help. I know that I'm not good at Potions, but if you tell me what to do, I'll do my best," he hesitantly spoke up.

"Lily," the professor replied in surprise. "Thank you so much; I'd really appreciate some help. Could you please crush the mint leaves for me?"

"Of course," Harry replied, wondering how the professor could mistake him for his mother as he quietly set to work.

To Harry's great relief, the professor was very contented with his help, and the two wizards spent the next three days animatedly brewing together.

'_It's actually fun to brew together with Snape_,' Harry mused, although his chest still hurt a lot, and he didn't feel overly well yet.

One day, Madam Pomfrey suddenly stepped through the fireplace and entered the lab. "Hello Severus, hello Harry," she said gently. "I'm recovered completely as are many others by now, so I think you can stop brewing after this batch. As soon as you finish this, I want both of you to go to bed and rest. From now on, I'm going to look after you."

"Poppy, Lily is very adept at brewing. I had much help this time."

"Lily?" Poppy queried, throwing Harry an amused look. "Severus, I'm sorry, but your flu-blurred vision and your high fever are playing a joke on you. It's not Lily, but her son Harry who helped you so efficiently in spite of being in a worse condition than anyone else in the castle."

"Potter?" Snape asked, and Harry noticed that the professor's face took on a terrified expression.

"Yes sir," he answered in a small voice. "I'm sorry sir."

The professor threw him a sharp look. "There is no reason for you to be sorry for anything, Mr. Potter. However, now as I know how adept you are at brewing, I expect you to show the same competency in class as well."

"I'll try, sir," Harry replied in a small voice with a small smile playing on his lips.

**The End**

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I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them._

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


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